


Tantrums

by Casity



Category: Batman - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 12:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12458232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casity/pseuds/Casity
Summary: Guess what, kids get over tired.





	Tantrums

It had started with a simple reminder from Alfred as he headed back up the stairs to the manor, leaving his two charges in the dark of the cave. “And don’t forget the St. Mary’s Orphanage dinner and play tomorrow.” 

Batman jerked his head in disagreement. “No.”

“Yes. You can’t say ‘no’ seeing as how you agreed to present a check yourself.” The butler didn’t wait for disagreement, rather left.

Dick, who was peeling off his mask carefully, started in on the complaints. “I’m not going.”

“…No patrol tomorrow night. Alfred’s right. Gotham will be fine.”

“Well, I’m not going.” Dick asserted.

Batman simply ignored this and made his way to the computer, taking a seat as to dictate the nights events. 

“Did you hear me? I’m NOT going.”

“Hit the showers. It’s late.”

“I’ll only go if you let me actually help on the next case. Field work.” The nine year old seemed overly confident int this approach. “No more sitting around like a baby and watching.” He paused. “OK?”

Batman pulled back his cowl. “You don’t have to accompany me to the play. That’s fine.”

“I want field work!” Dick suddenly screamed, his face going bright red. His reaction was enough to surprise the billionaire who hadn’t been expecting the explosion. Bruce actually startled. He slowly stood up and walked to the child. 

“Shower and bed. Now.”

“Not until you promise!”

Bruce bent down and snaked a hand around the boy’s arm. He wasn’t rough, but it was with enough force to gain respect. “Now.”

For a few seconds it looked like Dick might actually try to be combative. His face was still flushed from sheer rage. He did his best to look deadly, but was coming up short (probably due to a missing tooth). He jerked his arm free and marched into the showers, trailing behind a colorful display of his native tongue.

All of which Bruce wisely ignored. He returned to the console only to hear the onslaught of items being hurled from locker room and then the showers. Once again he ignored it best he could and focused on debriefing. Fifteen minutes later Dick was out and pajama’d up. He stomped over to Bruce and simply stood, watching the man at the computer, no doubt trying his best to radiate his disgust.

“Bedtime,” was all Bruce said and that was all it took.

“I’m not going to bed! I’ll stay awake for days – for a year!”

“Sounds horrible.”

“I want to fight bad guys! I’m tired of watching! I’m not going to just observe anymore!” Dick was back to shouting.

Bruce sighed and turned to glare at his nine year old, taking in the attempted ferociousness. The pajamas were not helping. “We could suspend your training indefinably ?” He observed how Dick’s face fell. “Now, you can go to bed by your own volition or you can be put to bed like a child.”

The Romani clenched his fists and all but hissed.

“I’m going to shower. When I come back I hope to find my orders obeyed.” And he did just that. He ignored the mess in the locker room wherein Dick had apparently thrown all his items every direction and headed to the ceramic tiling. He easily spotted the shower Dick had used, now covered with soap and shampoo and picked the one next to it. Once cleaned and changed into black sweats and a white tee, he strode back into the cave praying to find it empty.

Nothing doing.

Dick was standing defiantly by the computer, arms crossed and looking smug. “So there!”

Bruce wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that meant. Instead he casually walked over and snatched the child under the arms, lifting him with ease till Dick began to fight back. The whole thing was getting to be rather confusing. Dick was normally so well behaved. Sure he had his bad days, but never this bad. 

“No!” Dick screamed, his voice high pitched and shrill. “No! No!” He managed to get a fist full of Bruce’s hair and pulled.

“Enough.” Bruce growled, easily removing the hand by applying slight pressure. He made it to the stairs and had to stop in an attempt to gain some secure hold on the boy.

“No! I said I won’t!” The screaming was bad. The continual fighting to be put down was bad. The hot angry tears that were now starting made it all a little worse. 

Bruce felt his own anger hitch and he dropped the gypsy to his feet, watching as Dick gracefully landed. "That's it. Robin duty is suspended until further notice. You're clearly overwrought. If this job is causing you this level of stress than perhaps we ought to revisit the whole idea." He felt like the worlds biggest asshole. "You have about five seconds to get your ass up those stairs. 

Dick’s tears seemed to dry up instantly. His mouth was opened in disbelief, once again displaying his missing tooth. 

“Do I need to count?”

“I’M NOT A BABY!”

“One,” Bruce began.

The nine year old covered his ears and sat cross legged on the cave floor, shaking his head, adamant in his refusal.

“Two.”

Apparently shaking his head and covering his ears hadn’t been enough. Dick turned illuminating, angry blue eyes on his mentor and screamed, “stop counting!”

“Three.” Bruce couldn’t believe he was actually doing a countdown. The whole thing was ridiculous. “Four.” Finally Dick started to move, stomping up the stairs and Bruce felt himself relax. ‘Thank god.’ He watched the ascent begin to slow about half way up where Dick simply collapsed as if all the life had been drained from his tiny body.

Then the sobbing began. Horrible, exhausting, bone deep sobbing. 

“Dick.” Bruce sighed and climbed the staircase to scoop up the 60 lbs. He felt arms and legs instantly gripping him and was grateful that there wouldn’t be any fighting this time. He began the trek to Dick’s room, not saying anything to the sobbing or the feeling of his shirt growing wet from tears and snot and drool. 

When they got to the bedroom Bruce carefully tried to pry the figure off, but Dick’s grip became all the more severe. So the billionaire sat down on the edge of the bed and carefully rubbed circled on the tiny, bony back, though still at a loss for words. Eventually the tears slowed. 

“What was this all about?” Bruce finally questioned. 

Dick just lifted his head to lie it down on Bruce’s shoulder looking the opposite direction. 

“You know I can’t and won’t let you do anything unless you’re 100 percent ready.”

The crying started again.

“Stop it. Nobody is hurting you.” Bruce snapped. He instantly regretted his words. “Listen, you’re only nine. Give it time. Ok? You can do more when you’ve earned it. Not before.”

Dick muttered something.

“What?”

“You get what you get, don’t throw a fit!” Dick shouted the rhyme, his head finally lifting with a glare.

Bruce considered the words and the angry expression. He couldn’t help it when he chuckled. “Who says that?”

“…mom.”

“I like it.”

Dick surveyed him for a moment and then sighed, once again collapsing into his guardian. “My head hurts.”

FIFTEEN YEARS LATER:

Damian Wayne was furious at having been left behind. He had been told to get some rest, to take the night off. It was offensive and he was waiting in the cave as the Batmobile’s roared in. Watching as his father and Grayson emerged he drew his nose into the air with a dramatic flourish. 

“Dami!” Nightwing greeted ridiculously, his stupid smile in place. 

Batman on the other hand ignored him completely.

“I would like to address some grievances.” Damian snarled. 

“You’re recovering from a stab wound. There is nothing to discuss.” Batman snapped.

“Flesh wound! Nothing more. I refuse to be treated like an invalid when I’m better than the whole lot of you.” His eyes flicked over to where Dick was removing his mask happily. 

Batman pulled back his cowl and approached the ten year old. “You get what you get, don’t throw a fit.” At his words Dick froze momentarily, and then started laughing, all of which deeply offended Damian. 

“How dare you treat me like a toddler!” He rounded on Grayson. “And don’t you have someplace you call home?!”

“Ouch,”Dick allotted before turning to Bruce. “Can’t believe you still remember that.”

Bruce just rolled his eyes. “Not likely to forget my first run-in with a temper tantrum.”

“TEMPER TANTRUM? So you’re comparing me to Grayson?! Just slit my throat and be done with it!” Damian seethed. He watched the two adults exchange a look and that was the straw that broke the camels back. “Fine! If you both refuse to have a meaningful conversation I’ll take my leave. I’ll be in my room until further notice.” And with that he stormed up to the manor.

“Oh, come on,” Dick said with a huge grin, “even his tantrums are adorable.”

END

**Author's Note:**

> How do I bold or italic words? 
> 
> BTW this was inspired by my awesome nephew. He's basically the best kid around.


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